


Experiences

by BunniesAndBooks



Series: The Christmas Calendar [8]
Category: Glee, Glee RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:31:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunniesAndBooks/pseuds/BunniesAndBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 8. Kurt/Chris<br/>Prompt: So for some reason (competition, retreat, whatever) the Glee club goes to LA and one night Kurt winds up in a gay bar. (Maybe Puck dared him? Author's choice as to why he's there.) He's definitely not expecting to be the target of who knows how many leathermen and of course, they don't mean any harm, but needless to say, he's pretty overwhelmed.<br/>But in his half-drunken attempt to hightail it out of there, Kurt finds that he doesn't need to go anywhere when this actor right here notices him, senses how freaked out (and cute) he is, and steps in.<br/>Chris then persuades Kurt not to leave. With his tongue. And his cock. And other body parts.<br/>Bonus points if it's on the bar itself, shortly before or after closing.<br/>Double bonus points if either one of them has a sneaking suspicion that something not quite right is happening (like "who is this guy and why does he look freakishly like me?"), but shrugs it off on account of the alcohol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experiences

Being told that due to their competitor's auditorium being unsuspectingly foreclosed because of certain pesticides problems, their Sectionals competition was now to be held in Los Angeles of all places (by some mysterious twist of luck, nobody knew the exact reason why). Kurt had not however imagined it going the way it was headed at the moment. He had thought about running into every imaginable celebrity that resided there, he had thought about going shopping on the Rodeo Drive with all of his girls in tow, he had thought about visiting the famous Hollywood sign and maybe even going to one of the copious and completely tacky Paramount tours being offered when they weren't stuck in the hotel practicing for their competition.

Never had he though this trip would bring him to visit his first ever club. A _gay club_ none the less. And because of _Puck_ of all people.

It had all began when Puck had said he was about to sneak out on their first night there to go out to one of the many bars around their part of town, mentioning that he might even go into that strip club he'd seen on their way to the hotel, wanting to get his hands on some booze, and, maybe, even an eager and willing girl or two. When Kurt had begun ranting at him how he was going to get them all in trouble it had all very quickly escalated into Puck telling Kurt just how plain boring and prudish he was acting all the time, how he should just let loose and live a little. From there it hadn't been long until Kurt had exclaimed angry and determined that he was going out himself to find himself a gay club to show just how _plain boring_ he really was, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang when he left.

Which was why he was standing in the shadows outside – what he at least thought was a gay bar – wondering how the hell he was going to get himself in there. Despite being somewhat friends with both Puck and Santana, Kurt didn't own a fake ID, and he knew he looked like an eleven year old milkmaid on his good days. There was no way anybody would ever let him inside.

Still, he would have to try; it was far less embarrassing telling the guys he hadn't been allowed inside than saying he hadn't even dared to try. They would never let him live _that_ down.

So he squared his shoulders and lifted his head high and tried to look as confident as possible as he strutted his way over, only to be thrown for a loop when there wasn't even somebody there to try and trick into letting him inside.

Pouting frustratedly at spending such a long time agonizing over something that turned out not to be a problem in the first place Kurt pranced his way inside, and only when taking in the space before him did he realize exactly what he had done.

He was in a _gay club_. There were copious amounts of rather scantily clad older men all over the place – dancing, _grinding_ – and Kurt felt like a fish out of water. He didn't belong there, not really. Why was he even there?

Oh, right. Puck.

So, tilting his chin up and taking a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart Kurt made his way to the bar, instinct telling him he'd need a bit of liquid courage if he would ever survive this place. Primly sitting down in one of the unoccupied bar-stools Kurt waves for the – just as half-naked as the people dancing – leather-clad barman, ordering himself an appletini, one of the few drinks he'd actually heard of that were supposedly good. And although the bartender raised an amused eyebrow, clearly able to tell Kurt weren't of age, he handed one over not a minute later.

With the green drink in hand Kurt sighs quietly, amazed that he'd managed to pull this off.

Puck would be so proud.

“Hi there cutie, what's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” Kurt hears a deep, rumbling voice purr behind him, making every single cell in his body seize up and panic. He knows the voice is talking to him – there aren't any other people sitting on this side of the bar, it was why he'd chosen it in the first place – but Kurt can't for the life of him figure out _why_.

Back home the only ones that keep volunteering to talk to him without previous prompting are either part of the glee club, his father or – and this is sadly the greater part of people approaching him – various bullies wanting to 'play' with him. So why some older guy is going out of their way to talk to _him_ of all people is beyond Kurt's understanding.

Still, he turns around in the chair, and gazes up at the guy standing beside him. Only, it isn't just one guy because behind the one that had spoken to him there are three more; all of them burly, hairy men with big, obvious muscles covering the parts of them that were unclothed. And Kurt could tell you that there was a lot of their bodies showing. Apart from the occasional vest all of them seemed to only wear some sort of leather pants or shorts.

Eyes big as saucers Kurt looked at the men before him, his mouth hanging slightly open as he tried to come up with something, anything, to say. Nothing of course came to him, because what could he possibly say in a situation like this? That he liked their biceps? Their abs? No, all of that would just sound stupid, and Kurt blushed just thinking about it.

The men seemed amused watching him blush, something which of course only made him redden further, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to expel any words, any _noise_ really, to say to them.

“Well, aren't you a real beauty, huh?” the man standing in the front asked rhetorically as he stepped forward and cupped his jaw in one of his massive palms. Kurt shivered from the touch, all too overwhelmed with the attention bestowed upon him. “Could just eat you right up, right guys?” the man continued, throwing a quick glance over his bare shoulder.

A chorus of affirmative noises met him, and the man grinned mischievously as he turned back to Kurt, smiling down at the young boy. Kurt really wanted to leave the bar right now, wanted to return to the sanctuary of his hotel room and just cuddle up with his girls, escape whatever this man had planned for him – good intentions or not. “Think I'm gonna-”

“Tom! What have I told you about scaring little teenagers that come in here?” a high-pitched voice asked irritatedly from behind Kurt, making this man – _Tom_ – look up and smile.

“Hiya there, Chris. And I wasn't scaring him, I was just gonna offer to buy him a drink. What do you say, pretty?” the burly man asked, leaning down close to Kurt so their lips were almost touching.

“Tom!” the man behind him – Chris, apparently – yelled out angrily, stomping over and grabbing Tom by his ear to drag him off and away. “He is absolutely terrified. Now I know you and your little buddies all mean well, but you can go and talk to some other twinks that actually want your attention. Those guys in the corner all seem rather interested in you guys, you know. Go talk to them,” Chris ended, shooing them off in the direction of the supposed corner.

Though Kurt was grateful to this Chris for helping him with those rather obtrusive men, Kurt now found himself with another man seeking his attention, namely Chris himself.

“Hey, kid. You alright?” Chris asked, sitting down beside him and asking the bartender for a diet coke and rum, not allowing Kurt to answer before he continued. “Tom and his guys don't mean any harm you know, they're just tactless and could use a good slap to the back of their necks, but they're okay guys once you get to know them.”

Kurt once again felt overwhelmed, only this time because some complete stranger was just trying to see how he was, like he actually _cared_ if Kurt was okay or not. The other men had obviously only sought him out because they thought he was pretty, but this man – Chris, he really needed to remember that – was talking to him to find out if Kurt was hurt, or emotionally scarred, or something.

If that wasn't enough to make little butterflies appear in the pit of his stomach nothing ever would.

It didn't hurt either that Chris was devastatingly handsome either; his slim yet clearly fit and lightly muscled body covered by a tight pair of black skinny jeans – much like the pair he was wearing himself, actually – and a constricting white t-shirt with a leather-jacket on top of it. It all accentuated the broadness of his shoulders and the slimness of his hips while matching perfectly to his pale yet slightly tanned skin.

And to say that that face wasn't absolutely stunning was like saying the Mona Lisa wasn't a piece of art. Those piercing blue eyes centered around those mile-long lashes were positively striking, that strong jaw and lush mouth just asking for someone to realize they belonged to some divinity and needed to be worshiped properly.

And... Kurt just realized he'd been staring at this stranger like some creep for several minutes without saying a word. Blushing hotly Kurt resolutely looked down at the bar-counter before him, listening embarrassingly as Chris laughed jovially beside him.

“It's okay kid, I'm not gonna hurt you or something for looking. That's why you came to a place like this in the first place, right? To watch all the handsome men out there and maybe talk to one or two of them?” Chris stated with a smile, making Kurt dare to finally look back up at him. “And if anything it's a compliment, being stared at like that. Trust me kid, it's no worries.”

“Thank you,” Kurt finally whispered, feeling shy and bashful, unused as he was to have gorgeous men talking to him, not intending in the least to tell this gorgeous man that he was there because his friends practically dared him too.

“Like I said, no worries,” Chris smiled, raising his half-filled glass to clink against Kurt's own forgotten one. Kurt was quick to grasp it and take a small sip, finally tasting the drink he'd ordered so long ago. “However, I think you should tell me your name though. I don't wanna be calling you kid all night,” Chris joked, chuckling quietly as he took a swig from his glass.

Kurt smiled too, although slightly nervously. “It's Kurt. Hummel.”

“Well, hello to you, Kurt Hummel. I'm Chris Colfer. Nice to meet you,” Chris greeted, holding his hand out in offer, and Kurt grabbed it if only by reflex, shaking it twice before dropping it.

Things got easier after that; Chris asking him questions that got easier and easier to answer as Kurt's nerves lessened gradually – questions about what he was doing in LA, what his hobbies were and such. Chris had also purchased him an additional two drinks after he'd managed to finished his first one, and with his considerately low tolerance for alcohol, Kurt was pretty much hammered.

At one point in time Chris asked him to dance, which is how Kurt found himself grinding himself backwards into the older man's embrace, his arm slung behind them and clutching Chris neck as they kissed messily on the dancefloor. Chris had his arms thrown possessively around his chest and middle, his hands roaming his upper body, fingers catching upon his erect nipples and toying with them as they danced.

Kurt was moaning freely into that amazing mouth, too drunk to care if anybody was watching and simply enjoying the pleasure Chris was giving him. They were in a gay club for Christ sake, and they were only kissing, it wasn't like they were gonna have sex in the middle of the dancefloor.

Though, should that happen, Kurt certainly wouldn't say no.

“I should get back to the hotel,” Kurt slurred after a long while of dancing, turning around in Chris hold and throwing his arms around the pale guy's neck, tangling his fingers into the utterly soft hair at the nape of it. “My friends are probably anxous... ansius... worried about me.”

“Aw sweetie,” Chris pouted, batting his incredibly long eyelashes at him. “Why don't you stay for a little while longer. They close soon anyway, and I'll take you home after, 'kay?”

Kurt wasn't sure; true, he really did want to stay, but his head was spinning and he knew his friends would be anxious (that was the word!) for him. “I- I don't know...”

Chris swooped him into a huge kiss, his tongue invading Kurt's mouth lasciviously and dueling with Kurt's own nimble one. “Are you sure?” Chris asked panting, pressing quick little nibbles into his neck. “I can take you home if you want to.”

“Urgh,” Kurt groaned, eyes rolling backwards as Chris bit into his porcelain white neck. How was he ever supposed to be able to say no when things felt so impossibly good? “No, no, I'll- I'll stay. Just- don't stop what you're doing.”

Against his skin he could feel Chris grinning, still keeping his lips and teeth occupied marking Kurt, and Kurt threaded his fingers deeper into Chris' hair, tugging it with all his might to get the older man to kiss him again. Molding their lips together frantically Kurt scrabbled over the taller man's torso to find purchase for his unoccupied hand, finally grabbing hold of the leather-jacket and holding on for dear life as Chris sucked Kurt's tongue into his own mouth, making Kurt explore the wet cavern for himself.

Kurt couldn't for the life of him tell you how much time he spent kissing Chris after that, the cloud in his mind overtaking him and making everything a drunken haze, only that when he finally did come to the bar was virtually emptied – the only occupants beside themselves and the cleaning bartenders a few passed out drunks laying on the floor.

“Is the bar closed?” Kurt asked wonderously, still slurring every other word. Just _how_ long had he spent kissing Chris, and just _how_ drunk was he for not noticing the time slipping by? “I don't want it to be over yet, I just wanna keep kissing you,” he whines, gripping tight onto the lapels of Chris' jacket, only to giggle. “That's a funny word. Kissing, kissing, kissing...”

Chris chuckles, pushing a few locks of hair away from Kurt's eyes and behind his ear instead. “You're absolutely drunk, aren't you? But you're right, we can stay for a little bit longer...” Chris looks around the deserted club and starts dragging Kurt with him back to the emptied bar. “Come on, hop up,” Chris gestures, helping Kurt to sit up on the bar-counter and standing himself between Kurt's thighs.

Kurt giggles drunkenly, gazing down at the man beneath him. “You're pretty, you know that?” he tells Chris, giggling again when he realizes what he just said. Before him Chris smirks, his eyes full of mischievous mirth as he leans in and kisses Kurt once more.

“Is that so,” he whispers seductively into Kurt's ear, making dull shudders run up Kurt's spine. “Well, I can tell you that you are just the most precious little thing I've ever seen, cutie.”

Kurt gasps, clinging onto Chris' back with both arms and legs as the man starts to mark up his neck, pleasurable sparks coursing through his drunken body. Feeling a hand drag down his front and scratching over his nipples Kurt get's goosebumps all over his body, moaning hotly when that hand reaches it's destination.

Only then does Kurt realize just how achingly hard he is, and how long he must have been based on just how much it does hurt. The hand stroking him through his clothes help though, not much, but it does, and Kurt is quick to flick his own pants open, allowing Chris to do with that whatever he wants.

Kurt doesn't care if he's acting like some wanton whore when Chris does palm him again without the barrier of his pants – only the thin cotton of his briefs between them – and simply wails and curses out how good it feels. Pawing at Chris' back Kurt humps that hand to the best of his ability, the fog in his mind only spurring him on and not telling him how slutty he's behaving.

“Oh, sweetie,” Chris mumbles soothingly in his ear, drawing away his hand and instead placing it on his bare hip, stilling him. “There's no hurry, shh, calm down. Let's get you out of those clothes and we'll take care of you properly, 'kay?”

Kurt only nods brokenly, reaching up to pull off his layers of shirts and undershirts in one go, but Chris halts him, taking the time himself to unbutton every little button at a time before pushing the garment off Kurt's shoulders. Kurt hates how long time it takes, how much Chris seems to draw this out. He just wants to be naked already, to have Chris laying down on top of him – in him.

That is a possibility isn't it? To have Chris fuck him? Kurt certainly hopes so.

“That's it cutie, now let's get you out of those pants. Lift you're hips... good boy.”

Kurt preens at the compliment, his cheeks hurting from how much he's smiling, and purrs when Chris guides him to lay down on the shiny wooden counter. Chris is soon straddling him, still wearing his sinfully tight pants, but he's lost the jacket and shirt so Kurt doesn't mind. He enjoys just watching Chris as the man strokes his tummy, eliciting trembles all over his skin, an electrified path fallowing his fingertips.

“Look at you, pretty,” Chris murmurs appreciatively, looking at him with dark, lustful eyes. “So gorgeous; Tom was definitely right back there, one could just eat you up. Actually...” he draws out with a wicked glint in his eyes, ducking down and licking a broad stripe up Kurt's bared cock.

Kurt mewls, bucking his hips up uncontrollably at how perfect that one little touch felt, needing more of it, craving more.

“Take it easy, hun,” Chris chastises, placing a strong arm over his stomach and pressing down before licking another stripe up his attentive dick. Once again Kurt moans, and as Chris continues lapping at him Kurt keeps giving out these delectable little noises, urging him on tremendously.

There's a small click noise sounding out around them, but Kurt is way to focused on the mouth sucking him into it's depth – to far into the feel of that wet warmth enveloping him so perfectly – to take any notice of it. So when two slick fingers circle his entrance he's taken by surprise, crying out softly at the unexpected touch.

He groans at the dual experience of being both swallowed down deep and stretched so grandly, unfamiliar pleasures rocketing through his veins. He swallows harshly, trying fervently to find his bearings and push down at the intrusion – but in the end Kurt only manages to the barest little rock of his hips, nothing that makes a change whatsoever in the grand scheme of things.

“Think you can take more, sweetie?” Chris asks, his voice rough from sucking Kurt for who knows how long. Kurt only nods in response, too far gone to verbally respond.

The stretch of three fingers in him makes all the difference; as that third finger is introduced Kurt starts buckling his hips wildly – or at least he tries to under the arm holding him down – and his back arches when those fingertips rub over that tiny spot inside him that feels so incredible. His lips are red-bitten from trying to keep any sort of semblance, but his loud keens still fall steadily from his trembling throat.

Soon there's a blunt pressure pushing against his open hole, and Chris is leaning over him, catching his lips as he bores his way inside, swallowing Kurt's deep moan in his own mouth. Kurt's shaking in Chris' hold, the wide stretch so much more than he's used to. Thankfully Chris takes his time entering him, otherwise Kurt wouldn't be able to take it at all. As it is though he holds on through the pain that's shooting spikes and needles through the dimming fog in his mind, clutching at Chris' shoulders so hard there will most likely leave fingerprint marks behind.

As Chris bottoms out Kurt exhales shakily, glad at the small reprieve his quivering muscles deserves, gazing up at Chris as he holds still for Kurt to grow used to the intrusion. And when Kurt nods at the pale man to go ahead Chris smacks a wet kiss to his cheek before burying himself in Kurt's neck, kissing over his pounding artery before finally moving his hips back.

The friction is much better against his rim now that the width isn't hurting him, now it merely feels pleasant. Actually, when Chris begins stabbing continuously against his prostate Kurt will gladly admit how amazing it feels to get fucked, how astounding it is to have any imaginable sound pounded out of him.

Chris is by no means going easy on him, but Kurt doesn't mind, and instead spurs him on – pleading for harder, deeper, faster, moremore _more_. And Chris gives it to him; taking hold of Kurt's supple thighs and bending them over his own shoulders, basically bending Kurt in two as he thrusts even deeper into the young countertenor. Every little thrust like this somehow rubs perfectly against his prostate, transforming Kurt into a wanton slut, begging and pleading Chris to make him come.

In the end Kurt doesn't need anymore than a final stab against his abused prostate to come; his dick erupting all over his bare stomach and coating it with white, sticky cum as Chris pulls out and jacks off above him – his cum mixing with that already on Kurt's tummy.

When Kurt comes down from his high he is surprised to find Chris painting swirls and squares in the cum coating his flesh, spreading it out and making Kurt sheen with it. Blushing hotly Kurt can feel his dick twitch excitedly at the sight, making Chris chuckle and murmur out something about teenagers.

Pulling Chris down to him Kurt kisses him, a chaste little peck that makes his sore lips tingle pleasantly. “Hi, there,” Kurt giggles, gazing into the intoxicating baby blues staring back at him.

“Hi yourself,” Chris chuckles, stroking a stray bit of cum off his cheek and sucking the drop into his mouth, moaning softly at the taste. Kurt reddens further as he watches, but can't help but smile happily. “So, I should probably get you home, shouldn't I?” Chris asks looking at the time.

When Kurt notices it's well past three am he too agrees that it's probably for the best, though not before asking Chris if he would be willing to meet up again while Kurt is still in town.

*

Watching the cab drive off with Chris Kurt backs into the hotel, hand waving slowly as the car turns around the first corner. A smile tugs at his kiss-swollen lips as he turns around, swaying merrily as he walks towards the elevator.

He replays the memories he's gained that night over and over as the elevator takes him up floor after floor, his nimble fingers playing with the small piece of paper in his pocket that brandishes those ten special digits all the while.

As he climbs into the bed he's sharing with Mike Kurt sighs happily, snuggling down deep into the warm comforter.

The last thought in his mind before sleep takes him is the question of where ever Kurt had seen that face before, certain that he recognizes Chris from somewhere. But when dreams take him the issue is dropped, he won't remember it when morning comes, and even if he did he would think it was the alcohol getting to him.


End file.
